In Case of Loss

Assembled from a template, we have no identity. Packaged into crates, we are permitted no agency. Sold for scarcely more than a roll of quarters, we become the property of the young and old, literate and illiterate alike. Easily acquired, easily disposed, and yet, we serve as trusted repositories for a rainbow of mainlined emotions.

It is a fait accompli that we are to be held, transported, and occasionally dog-eared. We are the protectors of limited omniscience for those who tattoo our ivory pages with fears and aspirations. We are the confidants for those whose eyelids sprinkle glistening droplets onto our double ribbon bookmarks.

Despite the indignity of philanderous fingertips leafing through our bindings to rip away our less aged, acid free pages, we heed our calling to serve mercurial masters. These are their stories, and in recounting them I share my journey as one of many, small black notebooks, holding secure the recordings of deeply personal, artistic and occasionally charitable thoughts romanticized through pen.

March 12th, 2021; Fort Lee, NJ:

I found this journal on a plane seat whilst flying Modo & Modo Airways. It has apparently been floating through the world like a ship in a bottle carried on unsteady tides for quite some time. The hard cover, worn soft by heavy creasing is tenuously held closed by an elastic band that has been repeatedly knotted to bolster its longevity. A lonely cancelled stamp decorates the spine. Most of the content has been washed out by weathering. Some entries, sparsely located though they are, remain discernible... (part one of two).

September 12th, 2021; Kansas City, MO:

I wonder what it would be like if we could watch God watching us. Would we wince, or would we rejoice?

April 26th, 2021; somewhere out in the wild blue yonder:

The world is different now. I'm no longer the same person, and you are no longer here. It has been eight years since we said, "goodbye, but not goodbye"... I miss you every day, and hope that at some point I will be worthy of the investments you made in me.

January 2nd, 2021; Jacksonville, FL:

Found on a splintering park bench. Pandemic still rages. Masks still cover faces. This "new-world" sucks, even in Florida. I've lost family and friends and now my country seems lost as well. Happy flipping new year.

December 3rd, 2020; Memphis, TN:

Thought something seemed odd about the red circles scattered about... did some sleuthing, discovered they form a BitCoin wallet address and oh dear Lord, I cannot say thank you enough. Literally crying tears of joy right now. I paid rent and bought groceries with relative ease for the first time since lockdowns started. This... is truly a miracle.

September 1st, 2020; New Orleans, LA:

Quarantine blows. I've lost my job and I'm out of money. It's okay right now because I'm living with friends, but what happens when they run out of money? Are we all just intended to pretend that everything is fine relying upon our government to provide us subsistence? Oh yea, found this alongside a trash can... which, seems appropriate in hindsight given where our freedoms are headed if the insanity continues.

April 19th, 2020; Tucson, AZ:

I can't help but think of that R.E.M. song... "It's the end of the world", but I don't feel fine at all. One cough and everyone stares at me like I have the plague.

February 14th, 2020; Ann Arbor, MI:

Darn it's cold outside.

December 19th, 2019; Los Angeles, CA:

Found this in JDMA's Airport Terminal C... seems to be making the rounds. Don't have a lot of time to contribute much, but I think it's interesting to note that when I first spotted this from the corner of my eye on my way to the cafe, I dismissed it. When I passed by a second time, and it was still there; I paid more attention. I think we do this with people too. You notice them, and subconsciously dismiss them. In a blink. But if you scratch the surface a little deeper, you won't look at something or someone, like this journal or that person, the same way again. Food for thought.

December 3rd, 2019; Burbank, CA:

Peace and love ya'll, that's all we need. Oh yea, and maybe some weed.

November 15th, 2019; Denver, CO:

The neighbors just returned from a random trip to Spain, we're enjoying dinner and an entirely too expensive Cabernet, yet I'm more interested in reading the entries in this notebook I found while snowboarding this morning! I love how someone went through with a red pen and circled letters and numbers from previous entries to create their own. I think it might be a really long anagram. I hope someone solves it. Also neat that someone added post-it notes throughout on various pages with portions of their entry. I added some tape to help keep them in place. I'm leaving this in a library tomorrow.

June 23rd, 2019; Seattle, WA:

Found on a stool in a Starbucks. Initially tried to turn it in as a lost and found, but the staff did not really seem to care. Holding onto it for now.

April 10th, 2019; New York City, NY:

Bit of a rainy day to have found this notebook laying outside on a curb. Looked important to someone when I picked it up, so I took it home to dry. After reading a few entries I'm putting it in a book donation bin near where I found it yesterday. Best wishes. I hope you continue your travels safely and don't get left out in the rain again!

April 2nd, 2019; Portland, ME:

Found at Willard Beach. I'm trying to go back and read entries from dates that are years... heck, at least a decade or two old. Is this real? Jammed a gift card to Starbucks inside. Not much, but... maybe it’ll help someone a dollar short when they need the caffeine. Besides, a lobster will not fit.

January 12th, 2019; Canton, OH:

Found this... uh, actually, don't even remember now. I've had it for a few weeks. Thought I might be able to do something interesting with it. Now I'm feeling guilty and putting it back out into the world by dropping it in a post box with a stamp on it. Praying it does not get thrown away.

October 15th, 2018; Houston, TX:

What a weird moment in life... homeless for a couple years while renting out family property, and now transitioning to the prospect of selling it so I can start moving on. Just a few months ago, began chatting with siblings I knew existed but with whom I never had a relationship... most of them have kids. I have no prospects at the moment, but maybe if I can make something of myself that'll change.

October 8th, 2018; Little Rock, AR:

Found this in a supermarket shopping cart. Nothing interesting here. Move along somewhere else notebook. For what it's worth, I dabbed my dogs paw into some paint so he can sign this too! Gonna leave this on a counter in the credit union I frequent.

September 11th, 2018; New Brunswick, CT

I miss you dad. I'll never forget you. RIP. Never forgotten.

August 23rd, 2018; Atlanta, GA:

I don't know which I dislike more, the heat or the humidity, but there is a really cool aquarium here, so that's a thing. Found... somewhere. Leaving... somewhere else. With lots of love, and a smattering of crimson pen circles strategically added to the mystery!

August 2nd, 2018; Boise, ID:

Someone famous once said, "when life gives you lemons, you never know what's in a box of chocolates"... or, something like that. Dude, this is weird; that's all I have to say. I'll drop it off at a gas station on my way out of town.

May 19th, 2018; Lincoln, NE:

Found this on a public bus. Just got married! Cross your fingers, and your toes, I'm hoping this one lasts! Fifth time is the charm.

April 14th, 2018; Minneapolis, MN:

Within these pages lies evidence of the immortality of our human spirit. Thank you for sharing your experiences with me, and I hope the universe bids you well in whatever challenges you may be facing when this finds you.

March 29th, 2018; San Francisco, CA:

Some wise guy dropped this in my car! I'm going to a party later... will be leaving it there. Left a more extended message with some post-it notes. I wonder how long they'll survive? Longer than that hundred I bet. Oh - and if you want to be on time anywhere, never take cabs!

March 29th, 2018; San Francisco, CA:

In life there are pitfalls and high points. Find balance. Never mourn or celebrate to the extreme, and you'll be healthier for it. Found this on a community table in a brewery, and from where I am sitting as I write this note, I can see a convertible with its top down parked a short distance from here; so, I'll be dropping this on their passenger side seat as I walk by in a few moments.

January 21st, 2018; Las Vegas, NV:

Gibberish. But I'll play. Found on a plane. Leaving on the same plane, tucked into the pocket on the back of a different seat. Also slipping a hundred dollar bill into the pages to buy myself some future good karma. Now, here’s hoping I don't fly home broke in a few days time!

January 20th, 2018; Boston, MA:

Stuck in an airport terminal reading what I can to pass the time. If I had to miss a flight, (which would not have happened if my cab driver had been punctual); then this is an unexpectedly interesting way to occupy myself for now.

March 12th, 2021; Fort Lee, NJ:

Dear whomever resides at the address on the fly leaf,

When I used the last bit of space within your journal to begin this correspondence it became quite clear I'd have to continue writing on a new page, (part two of two). Since many others have added pages as well, I believe you'll find this keeping within the context of what has clearly been a unique evolution.

I have held it in my possession for the last six months attempting to decipher the entries and transcribe them into a legible form. From what I can tell, the first entry was from Francesco F... but I am unsure of the second half of their name. It is very faded even under quality light and magnification. The entry appears to be from 1997, and I believe there is a geographical reference to Milan, Italy.

Many of the more easily read entries have been written atop older, faded scribbles representing at last count... 32 countries, and several languages in which I am not fluent. One of my personal favorites, (from an amusement standpoint), is signed with the paw print of a dog. Sadly, the print obscures someone else's entry, but I'm certain that was not the dog's intention.

While you peruse this exhaustive collection of extemporaneous musings, take note of how they have transformed what began as an unpretentious small black notebook, (similar in design to a classic Moleskine), into a sort of esoteric chronicle.

The pages inside bridge scarred originals with more recent contributions like mine, and play host to a remarkable twenty-four years of human connections dotting the globe. This... sui generis ephemera... would undoubtedly be difficult for anyone to place an accurate premium on.

Though, as a curator... I would be very pleased to pay twenty-thousand dollars for the privilege of removing the cork, and letting this ship set sail toward preservation for future generations. Please do get in touch.

I would love to meet the family on whose doorstep this arrives, and satisfy my abiding curiosity, if possible, with respect to the details of why your address is listed inside for, In Case of Loss.